


Suicide

by SassySatan666



Series: Servamp Short Stories [5]
Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Homelessness, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySatan666/pseuds/SassySatan666
Summary: The rhythmic chiming of the alarm at their bedside was enough for him to muster up the will to move. There was no need for his calendar to be marked. Every day was the same, anyway. Maybe today would be his last.
Relationships: Hyde | Lawless/Licht Jekylland Todoroki
Series: Servamp Short Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811581
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Everything, Servamp





	Suicide

**Author's Note:**

> I had a nice streak of like a fic a day and then like months later ive returned-  
> My baD  
> Anyway i hope yall enjoy

_ His alarm went off with a loud chime, a familiar tune that had been waiting to strike for months; for years. He had given life a second chance - let it have it’s way with him until it spat out a broken soul; a damaged good that had no use in the world.  _

_ Mumbling to the mass on his arm, Hyde sighed, his mind blank, “I’ll be right back, angel.” There was a slight shift from the sleeping noiret and he used that opportunity to sneak from the hold. Moving past the stacks of books on the floor and the keyboard that rested against the wall, he turned on the desk lamp, yawning. Glancing back to be sure Licht wouldn’t wake up with the sudden light, he opened the closet, changing into something more suitable for what he was preparing to do. He was out the door without a final goodbye, a neatly-folded, typed note his final words.  _

_ The journey was long, the roads winding. His world was blurred at the edges, colors fading into the others as the sun only just began to rise, highlighting the sky above in warm brilliance - crimsons fading against the bright oranges, later bleeding into the purple of the night past. At least the sun seemed to appreciate a flair for the arts, the night’s speckled sky used as a canvas to display hues of emotion and depth, those waking up having something beautiful to wake up to.  _

_ Passing a patch of broken glass, he felt himself stopping to stare at the green shards, the stench of alcohol ever-the-present. He stepped forward, his arms tensing with hope that he’d carve more of a message for the world into himself. Shaking his head and continuing forward, he began approaching the city of his destination. He passed businessmen and women staring at their watches, their phones; not appreciating the wonders of life, not helping those in need. His steps faltered as he walked past a blonde resting in the street, a hastily written sign asking for food.  _

_ It’s not like he would be back. _

_ Gently and cautiously leaning down, he pulled his wallet from his pocket, taking out the money he had accumulated over the years; tuition no longer important. Smiling, he brought the bills forward, watching as green eyes teared up happily.  _

_ “T-Thank you so much..! I- I don’t- How could I ever repay you?!” _

_ He stood, adjusting his sleeves, “There’s no need with where I’m going.” _

_ Walking away, he glanced up at the sky once more, his movements mechanical against the winds that flowed throughout the streets, pushing him forward and pulling him back. They were as torn as him, and yet, his feet carried him past the angered faces of others, the disappointing stares of family at each other, the gentle fall of tears from blue eyes as someone woke up alone. They fueled his steps; propelled him forward against the silvered pull of chains tying him back to where he had first rested.  _

_ The steps were no issue - the slight burn of multiple stories flooding his body, his own chronicle incomplete. It would be a plot-twist, the enemy being defeated by none other than himself. The door offered no obstacle, wind carrying him to the ledge on Heavenly wings of charcoal.  _

_ Demonic was the fall to Hell.  _

_ But that was merely who he was. _

_ A soul damned to the furthest pit of Greed.  _

_ Without a final word, the air met his feet, wind attempting to save him with an ashen hold, Hell’s grasp pulling him against it, burning the thing that could save him.  _

_ His world faded to black. _

His alarm went off.


End file.
